


A Touch of Cold

by YellowMagicalGirl



Series: When Fate Plays Chess [3]
Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Hisirdoux "Douxie" Casperan has PTSD - Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, However that's never going to get touched upon in the fic, Krel Tarron is a College Professor, M/M, Married Life, No Spoilers, No Wizards Spoilers (Tales of Arcadia), Not Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Prosthetics, Slice of Life, Though technically his full name is Douxie Mordred Ector Pendragon-Tarron, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:33:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26018074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YellowMagicalGirl/pseuds/YellowMagicalGirl
Summary: Krel takes a break from grading papers to greet his husband when he comes home from work.Can be read as a stand-alone.
Relationships: Hisirdoux "Douxie" Casperan/Krel Tarron
Series: When Fate Plays Chess [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1888429
Comments: 3
Kudos: 58





	A Touch of Cold

**Author's Note:**

> Other than knowing that Douxie has PTSD and a prosthetic hand, you don’t need knowledge of the original fic that this is a sequel to read this.
> 
> I wrote this because I wanted it to be winter the other day bc I was in a 3rd story apartment with no AC in humid 101 F weather.

Krel gnaws at his lip. Does this student _deserve_ partial credit for this problem? They didn’t draw the free body diagram correctly, and they forgot an entire force while calculating the net acceleration. However, they also calculated the torque almost perfectly, if one ignored the fact that the net acceleration was wrong and there was a sign error at the end. Students like this one make him fear for the future of Earth’s scientists and engineers, but especially engineers because there are always more engineers in his lower division physics classes than physics majors.

Krel reaches for his coffee mug. It was a gift from Zoe, and it has the logo of one of the bands they both like on it. He tries to take a sip, but finds it empty. He sighs, picks up his mug, stands up, and heads upstairs. Hopefully the pot he brewed earlier is still warm.

As it turns out, the pot he brewed earlier is empty. Either the Blanks got to it, or he must have finished it and forgot. As Krel begins to brew another pot of coffee, he hears the front door unlock. He smiles and walks away from the brewing pot.

A blast of cool air comes into the house at the same time as Douxie does. He hurries to close the door behind him. Krel quickly studies his husband’s face; it’s a little red from the cold and his bangs are messy from being whipped about by the wind. However, Douxie’s eyes are just tired, not hollow.

Good. These days, the cold doesn’t trigger Douxie as often or as badly it did when the two of them were teenagers. They have time and years of therapy to thank for that.

“How was work?” Krel asks as Douxie hangs up his coat.

“Alright, though I think Gregory’s mad at me again.”

“Isn’t he always?”

“True. How was your day?”

“I should have made the final multiple choice. Then, I could just use campus’s scantron reader.”

“Don’t you hate using that thing? And multiple choice tests in general?”

“But then I wouldn’t have to deal with undergrad tests.”

“Have you been grading the 225 final all day?”

“No, I caught up with the last of the homework for 476. But other than that, it’s just been 225. I didn’t expect so many of them to finish it.”

Douxie gives Krel a concerned look.

“I was going to curve it anyways. Given the time limit I thought they’d take their time on some problems and leave the others blank, not rush on everything,” Krel says as he takes a step towards Douxie. Krel then leans his head so he can kiss Douxie. Douxie wraps his arms around Krel’s waist. His hands sneak underneath Krel’s shirt, seeking out warmth. Krel yelps and pulls away, regretting all the decisions that led to him being in his human form right now.

“Do you,” Krel starts, then pauses. No, Douxie does not know how cold his prosthetic is unless it’s up against his bare skin. “Your hand is too cold.”

“It can’t be _that_ cold,” Douxie says as he moves to twist the amulet to change his prosthetic from a gauntlet to a glove. His eyes widen. “Oh. Cold. Very cold.”

He very quickly changes it into a glove, and then stuffs the glove in his pocket. Krel studies the leftover garment protecting Douxie’s right arm from what was once cold metal. It’s green and striped, and it hasn’t been altered to fit a human arm as opposed to fit onto a human foot.

“Is that my sock?” Krel asks.

“I need to run a load of laundry, so I improvised” Douxie answers. “I’m going to go run it before I forget; you have any darks for me to throw in?”

“I don’t think so; I made coffee. You want any?”


End file.
